Grey Eyes
by IntricateOne
Summary: R/R. Draco Malfoy realizes his true self, falls in love with a girl he least expects, and finds real friendship in an unlikely place. A story that shows the more balanced look of Slytherin.
1. Curiosity

A/N: Um, yeah, this is a fic about Draco, in which he truly finds himself and what kind of person he is, leaving him uninfluenced by his father's past.  
  
It was a few days before Draco Malfoy would be heading back to his school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, there were many reasons he did not want to return. One of which was the fact that his father had received the Dementor's Kiss for his deeds as a Death Eater. Yes, Draco did at one time feel the need for vengeance against Potter, but that feeling had passed.  
  
Draco was looking out the window of the large Malfoy estate, his mother cooking dinner downstairs in a mechanical fashion, for the death of his father had upset her so. Draco's feelings had changed somewhat, as he overlooked the field his house was upon. Draco never really loved his father, never even liked him. He was scared into respecting him and he found himself talking of his father proudly in the midst of any peers. But those were not his true feelings. He loathed his father, the way he treated others, but Draco loathed himself, too, for not being strong enough to tell his father off.  
  
His mother was a good woman, never really popular in her day, but was a rare beauty as well as a good student. Draco loved and truly respected his mother, especially for her coping with Lucius's temper. Why hadn't she left. . .  
  
"Draco, dear, dinner!", his mother called up in a smooth voice.  
  
"Coming. . .", Draco answered reluctantly.  
  
He wasn't really hungry. He sat down in a plush, burgundy chair, and looked around him. There were countless heirlooms, rugs, paintings, books, and other things that had not been touched or used in years. Pureblood rubbish was how Draco would refer to them, though not in public. Perhaps this was why he was so close to Professor Snape. Snape understood the feeling of not belonging, not wanting part in the malevolent ways of friends. Sure, Draco was popular, but he felt so dishonest when he was with his friends lately. He felt he was being stifled and shut up. It was the worst feeling in the world for him.  
  
"Draco! Your dinner is getting cold!", his mother called up again.  
  
"Fine, mum!", Draco said exasperatedly, and ran down the stairs to a black marble kitchen.  
  
Everything was black, or green, or silver. Draco was sick of it. This was the most Slytherin household on this earth, he was sure. He walked to the cherry wood table to eat some odd soup his mother had made. 'Blasted family recipes', he thought.  
  
Draco must've been scowling, for Narcissa looked at him with concerned gray eyes.  
  
"You have been thinking about your father, haven't you?", she asked, almost too sweet.  
  
"Yeah.", Draco lied. He didn't want to tell her that he was questioning himself, for that would worry her more.  
  
"I know you weren't very close to him, but that was his fault. He never let you get close. You shouldn't dwell on it, love. He wasn't perfect, you don't have to be.", his mother said, comforting him.  
  
Draco really didn't want to hear this. He'd rather give Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup while bowing to Weasley. Sure, he was considering getting the Dark Mark, for maybe, just maybe, he could make his father proud, along with the rest of Slytherin. As much as he disliked his father, he wanted so badly for the sign of acceptance from his dad. He longed for it, but only got such comforts from Snape. Yet, he had decided to wait until he was eighteen, if he, in fact, really wanted the Dark Mark. His mother had been trying to tell him not to do so, ever since his father's capture. Snape had been telling him since he entered in First year not to let the dark side overpower him.  
  
Yet, Draco's father never objected to involvement with Voldemort. Draco always knew that his father was a Death Eater, and he never really saw anything wrong with it until his father was thrown into Azkaban, seeing that his father was paying for what influence Voldemort had. But if joining Voldemort was the only way to make his father proud, then Draco didn't care what cost there was.  
  
A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter! I just don't want to write too much too soon. Reviews would be great(wink wink, nudge nudge)! Um, just tell me what you think. The more reviews, the sooner I'll write! 


	2. Diagon Alley

A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far! And for one of my reviewers, there is no way on this earth that this will turn into a Draco/Hermione! I've decided to do something a little different with his love life, something I'm sure hasn't been done before.  
  
Draco woke that morning, aware that he was headed to Diagon Alley that day. He walked down stairs and saw his owl, Achilles, pecking at the living room window. Draco yawned quite loudly, stretching his arms above his head, feeling as though he had been cruelly deprived of sleep. He open the window, letting Achilles perch himself on his arm.  
  
"What did you bring now, you dolt?", Draco asked affectionately.  
  
He untied two envelopes from the owl's leg, one a tad heavier than the other. He opened the lighter one, which was from Professor McGonagall, telling him of what supplies he needed to get for his Seventh and last year at Hogwarts.  
  
Draco opened the other envelope. He read a small letter that stated:  
  
Dear Mr. Malfoy,  
  
You have been chosen as Head Boy in your Seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Congratulations on receiving this honor.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
Draco slipped his fingers into the envelope, retrieving a silver badge with an "H.B." in cursive lettering, and the Hogwarts crest behind. He smiled to himself. He had been sure that Potter would have gotten the honor instead of him. Potter did deserve it, after all, because he worked hard in class and was well-rounded as a student. Draco hated to admit that perhaps Potter had been cheated out of that honor. Maybe Dumbledore just wanted to show he wasn't partial to Potter, that he would gladly give the title of "Head Boy" to a student he didn't particularly like.  
  
Draco shook these guilty thoughts from his head. He also decided not to tell his mother yet, either. He really didn't want her to make a big deal out of it, and he was aware that she would do that very thing. He was seventeen-year-old, for Merlin's sake, he didn't need his mother fussing over him. Suddenly, an awful thought had come to Draco's mind.  
  
He would have to share quarters with a certain Hermione Granger.  
  
Draco didn't have to have McGonagall tell him that Granger was Head Girl. He knew she had absolutely no competition when it came to that title. She was easily the best student, even better than Potter or himself. Draco groaned. He really couldn't stand the perfectionist muggle-born. Her being a muggle-born was no longer any issue for Draco, for he realized that the "Mudblood" theory was just his father's twisted thinking, something that happened to be shared with many Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. What bothered Draco about Hermione Granger was the fact that she was just crazy, from her bushy hair to her obsessive studying habits, along with her love of shooting her hand up in the air during class.  
  
Draco finally realized that he needed to Apparate to Diagon Alley and get all his books and supplies. He loved Apparating beyond compare, and knowing that he could do it now was pleasing. He jumped into the bath, trying to be as quick as he could, donning some black robes.  
  
Draco grabbed his bag of galleons and sickles. He clutched his wand, imagining Diagon Alley, the shops, the people, the stony road. He muttered a few incantations under his breath, thinking only of the marketplace. His stomach lurched; he could feel himself whirling and saw a motley of colors surrounding him. Then it stopped. Draco opened his eyes, finding himself in the heart of Diagon Alley.  
  
He noticed Crabbe and Goyle, who were talking to Blaise Zambini and Pansy Parkinson. He really was sick of them all, for they had no brains of their own, except Blaise perhaps. Pansy Parkinson's sole purpose in life was to be a flirt with Draco, and Draco didn't want to be a part of this destiny. Crabbe and Goyle were like walking statues; it was like talking to himself when he was around them. Draco hid in a potions shop, before they could notice him.  
  
He decided he might as well get his potions ingredients first, as he was in the shop. He noticed they would be using dragon's tongue this year, a very dangerous substance, and was not puzzled that Snape had assigned it. Snape cared about all his students' welfare, even if he hated them, but never was one to shy away from using advanced material. Draco found himself having to buy much from the potions shop alone, forgetting that there were new robes to buy(as he had grown taller), textbooks to get, and the Quidditch shop was necessary to stroll through just to keep up with the new broomsticks and such.  
  
Draco finally freed himself from the potions shop, noticing a joke shop across the street. Alas, it was no ordinary joke shop, and it looked quite new.  
  
"Let's have a look, eh?", Draco thought, amused.  
  
He walked in, like a prisoner into a lion's den. His jaw dropped. The Weasley twins were at the counter. He sidestepped out of their line of vision, noticing little spheres filled with a opaque gas-like substance, twenty per packet. Draco curiously picked the packet up, and went up to the counter, knowing that the Weasleys would not care if he was Severus Snape, as long as they were getting paid.  
  
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?", one of the twins asked, looking suspicious.  
  
"Yeah. Your little Slytherin friends are across the street. You've got the wrong place.", the other twin added.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin.", He thought  
  
"I just came to do some business. What are these?", Draco asked the twins, with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Ah, Memory Erasers, excellent choice. What you do is, say McGonagall's class is getting boring and you just want to get it over with. Fling one of these beauties at her face, she won't feel a thing. She'll completely forget what she wanted to teach you that day and will be in a. . . "happy" mood, causing her to let the class pretty much do anything. It'll be like her having a little too much firewhiskey. She won't find out the next day, therefore you won't get in trouble.", George said.  
  
"Though I wouldn't try that on McGonagall, she'd find out somehow. It wouldn't work on Professor Binns either, well, because he's a ghost. Sadly, that's the one everyone wants to shut up.", Fred added.  
  
"I'll take these then, gentlemen.", Draco said, placing the packet on the counter.  
  
"Ok, Malfoy. It will come to be about fifteen Sickles."  
  
Draco handed them their payment, leaving the store quite swiftly. He noticed the Weasley girl and Granger were in Flourish and Blott's, so he decided to go get his robes. After that, he returned to the book shop, grabbing the books quickly.  
  
He was glad to be done with his shopping, until he ran into someone unexpectedly.  
  
Potter and Weasley.  
  
"Hey Potter, Weasley.", Draco said, not really caring that he'd run into them, nor that he sounded so odd for being civil.  
  
They stared at him, but Draco just kept walking, knowing that somehow they would manage an argument.  
  
He Apparated home, finding his mother was cooking lunch. He felt remorse for not picking up something in Diagon Alley. He hated his mother's cooking lately.  
  
"Dear, you look so sad!", his mother lamented.  
  
Draco took one of the Memory Erasers and threw it into her pale face. Her grey eyes became wide and surprised.  
  
"I'm just going to take a seat, dear.", Narcissa said dreamily, throwing herself on the couch.  
  
"Yes, mum.", Draco said, trying to stifle his laughter at his seemingly drunk mother.  
  
He finished cooking the meal his mother started, finding it to be much tastier than it would've been.  
  
A/N: Odd chapter, eh? Yeah, I felt like doing something weird, so here it is. Sorry, but the romance thing won't start until the next chapter or so(he does have to meet the girl before he falls for her). 


End file.
